Mixed Emotions

I am looking forward to Monday with mixed emotions. For the past 6 plus years, I have driven Uber and Lift as a rideshare driver. I have driven over 171,000 miles and carried more than 10, 400 riders. I have stretched out to all reaches of Dallas/Fort Worth, driving from Granbury to McKinney, Wichita Falls to Tyler, Windstar Casino in Oklahoma to the southern edges of the Metroplex, including Cleburne, Waxahachie, Kaufman, and Terrell. I have driven into some of the poorest communities and into some of the most elegant, beautiful neighborhoods. And I have driven into some areas I didn’t even know existed. I drove on streets that weren’t even streets and wondered if my car would survive. I have carried people that have been homeless, and those who owned mansions. I have carried newlyweds and people who were just divorced. I carried people going to work and school, some who were traveling. Many of the riders were in Dallas for pleasure or business, and I have had the opportunity to espouse the greatness of the Metroplex. I have carried pilots, flight attendants, and exotic dancers.  I carried athletes and fans.  I have had young people ask me what advice I could give them. I have had people who did not know of my past ask advice on how to make marriage work. I have carried virtually every nationality. Not once did I experience anyone, or enter any area, that created fear for me.

When I closed my counseling practice, I questioned God as to why He took me through five years (age 56-61) of schooling, only to have my practice fail. I found his answer while driving rideshare. It was my mission.

I have offered my front seat to every rider, and some accepted, some didn’t. Some riders wanted to talk, and others didn’t. With those who wanted to talk, I have had some of the most rewarding conversations and discussions. I was so moved by the story of some of my riders that I was moved almost to tears, and I prayed with many of them. After talking to many of my riders, many of them stated, “that was just what I needed.” I have found that everyone has a story. It dictates how we feel and how we act. And as a result, I try to be more compassionate toward people.

So, my mixed emotions about Monday. It will be my last day driving Uber/Lyft. I will hang up my keys and try to preserve my car. These past six years have been a blessing to me. And through the ups and downs, the good and bad, I will miss it.

Dwayne Collins

The Final Goodbye

Being eighty years old means my physical activities tend to decrease. They are further decreased with the advent of Covid-19. And that means my leisure time is increased. The question becomes: How do I fill that non-accounted for time?

Although I have not been one to sit at home, even during the pandemic, I still have lots of time for watching television movies. I usually do not search for shoot-em-up, wild car chases, movies. I choose those that have more to do with real life situations and are more likely to affect my emotions or make me think. A couple weeks ago, I watched a movie about a woman who was terminally ill with cancer. In her trips to the hospital for treatment, she met a young gay man whose significant other was also dying. She and her husband became friends with the young man and eventually attended his significant other’s funeral. Their acceptance and love of the young man made me think that we as Christians tend to judge people by their physical direction rather than what is in their heart. In my older years, I have come to see there is a great disconnect between the two and I am sure that God judges by what is in our hearts, rather than how we act or what we do. I believe that is why we are instructed by the Bible not to judge (Matthew 7:1-3). But that is the topic of another blog.

Recently, I watched a movie titled Blackbird. Lily, played by Susan Sarandon, was dying of a terminal disease. Isn’t it ironic that at age 80, all the main characters of my movies are dying? Her husband, Sam, was a doctor and they had two adult daughters. The oldest one, Jennifer, was married with a teenage son. She was by the rules, and everything had to be orderly. That created a great conflict between she and her younger sister, Anna, who was a lesbian, suffered from emotional problems, and did not connect favorably or regularly with the family.

Lily had a terminal illness and wanted to select her time of dying. She had convinced Sam to assist by creating a mixture of medicines for her to ingest when the time came. And Lily wanted her family together to celebrate one last Christmas and to celebrate her life and passing. As the story unfolded, it was obvious there was lots of healing that had to take place between the members of the family, including Lily. There was lots of soul searching and apologies, and everything else that goes into the relationship healing process. There was lots of screaming, crying, laughing and forgiveness. And with this came a lot of understanding, healing, and acceptance.

And so, I began to think. There is a lot to be said about knowing exactly when you will breathe your last breath. By saying this, I am in no way saying that I believe in assisted suicide, or self-administered suicide. I believe that life is given by God and should be taken by him. But I do believe that God knows the very heart of each person’s decision and it is up to Him to judge. In my current and normal frame of mind, I cannot imagine what someone is dealing with when they decide it is time to end their life. And I do not know what may go through my mind in the future.

During my lifetime, I have witnessed and known of many people who have died. I have seen the survivors who have had great relationships with the dying, me included. And I have seen the survivors who have not had great relationships with the dying. It seems to me that those with great relationships with the dying have an easier time in the grieving process. The problem with death for those still living is that it is final. Any healing that we want to accomplish is no longer possible. And so, my statement, “There is a lot to be said about knowing when you will breathe your last breath.”

Since my father died in his early 60’s, I assumed I would die about the same age. Although I did not dwell on that thought, it was at the forefront of my mind. Just before I turned 55 years old. I felt that God said to me, “Do not dwell on this any longer. You are going to live another 25 years.” I accepted that but from then on, I questioned whether God said, “…another 25 years,” or “…AT LEAST another 25 years.” There can be a great difference between the two. But I willingly accepted what God said. After all, twenty-five years is a long time. That is, unless you are on the slippery slope side of life and time goes by quickly. The night before my 80^th birthday, I was almost afraid to go to sleep. Since I am still here, maybe God did say, “…at least another 25 years.”

So, what is my point. Well, first, I am at peace with God, and I do not fear closing my eyes for the final time. I believe in faith, there is heaven, and I will go there. It is by faith that I believe. And as the Bible tells us in Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Another way to put this; we do not have tangible proof; be we still believe it. And so, if I close my eyes for the last time and I do not open them again, my faith in eternal life was for naught, but I will not know it anyway. If I am wrong, I have lost nothing. If I am right, I have gained everything.

My second point, when I close my eyes for the final time, I am sure there are many people that I wished I had one last opportunity to say goodbye to. To say I am sorry, or thank you, or you have always been special to me, or I am immensely proud of you, or I am deeply in love with you. None of us are who we are without the impact of someone else. A line from the movie Fierce People, “We are the sum of all the people we have ever met,” so if there are any faults in me, you are partially to blame. To summarize this point, there is never a good or correct time to die apart from the time God selects. We are never finished with life when it is time to go. And only final goodbyes are the ones said by those who stand over your grave.

So, in not knowing the time, I am aware that I have already had more years than I thought possible. So, if I do not get to tell you in person, and not knowing how much more time there is, I want all to know that my life has been thoroughly blessed by my wonderful friends and family. And finally, if I do not get to tell you all repeatedly, I want my beautiful wife of more than 63 years, to know and be assured, that you above all others, have made my life special. And I want my four kids and their spouses, their children (my grandchildren), their spouses, and their children (my great grandchildren), to know that they are deeply loved. And I am proud of each one without exception.

“Nothing in life will call upon us to be more courageous than facing the fact that it ends. But on the other side of heartbreak is wisdom.” From the movie Wish I was here.

Dwayne Collins

Best Friends Forever

As children, one of the first needs we have is to be liked by someone, and to like someone in return. This mutual like can eventually lead to what is commonly known as BFF, or Best Friend Forever. As we progress through life, we create more mutual likes and many times, our BFF does not come from those early childhood likes but develops later in life. Some people do not have a BFF, and some have more than one.

I first met Bob Nixon in October 1961 when I transferred from Kansas City to Chicago with Braniff Airways. Bob came to work with Braniff about the same time. We developed a friendship. On Monday nights, my wife, Marlene, and I would have taco parties and several the couples from work would come. The one regular couple was Bob and his wife. On occasion, it would be just the four of us. And the friendship between Bob and I grew and grew, even though I really knew extraordinarily little about Bob’s life and his past.

Eventually Marlene and I moved to Oklahoma, and Bob and I lost contact with each other. Bob left Braniff and went to work for Jockey Shorts. He was in his hotel room in Iowa one night and started thinking about and missing those taco parties. I received a phone call and the telephone operator asked if I was Dwayne Collins who used to work for Braniff in Chicago. I answered in the affirmative and on the other end of the line was Bob. We talked and caught up with life.

Several months later, my wife and I moved back to Champaign, our hometown. On a day trip to Chicago, I stopped by the Braniff office to renew acquaintances. One of the employees told me that Bob was going to be going to the University of Illinois in Champaign. And a couple weeks later, Bob called.

He was moving to Champaign to work on his master’s degree. Bob was extended a weekly invite for dinner at our house. It was usually on Monday nights, and we enjoyed the Monday NFL game. This was a regular event for the next two years. It was during this time that I began to hear the stories of Bob’s life experiences. Truthfully, had I known all these things when I first met Bob, I may have judged him harshly and our friendship would not have developed. Fortunately for me, I did not, and it did. What follows is from my memory and may be out of sequence and/or somewhat embellished.

One of the first experiences that I learned about was what led to the University of Illinois in the first place. As I was to later learn, Bob was a Chicago Southside hoodlum. Some of his activities resulted in his leaving Chicago with the approval of a judge and moving in with relatives in Texas. In Texas, falling in and out of love resulted in him leaving school without finishing and leading to other extracurricular activities that resulted in his departure from the area.

He began working various jobs including employment in the oil fields in small west Texas towns. One cold, rainy Saturday night as he stood under the only street light in town, Bob began to realize that an education would serve him much better than what he was doing then. He decided to go back home and get an education. He enrolled at Loyola University in Chicago, but without complete high school transcripts. He solved that problem with appropriate stationery and a typewriter. And after his bachelor’s degree at Loyola, he earned a master’s degree at U of I. Bob used this education to become a college professor at a community college in Illinois and continued in that position for over 40 years.

Over the years, we have maintained our contact and on occasion, even though Marlene and I have been in Texas nearly 30 years, we have managed to see each other from time to time. During these many years, I have learned more and more about his fascinating life experiences. Before I met him, he had driven stock cars, rode in rodeos, hopped trains to travel, led the police on many car chases, some successful and some not and participated in gang wars. But back then, they did not use guns, they used chains and clubs. He hid in the attic of an ex-girlfriend’s home to see if she was seeing someone else. Bob was an animal lover. He rescued injured and abused dogs. Many of which he kept himself and cared for. He drove hundreds of miles to kidnap or help transport abused animal. He became a lobbyist for the Illinois State Assembly for animal rights. And he wrote a college textbook on business communications.

I could never get enough of Bob’s life stories. But, as we got older, Bob and I would talk a lot about heaven. He could not comprehend eternity, and he was concerned that we would get bored after a few thousand years. We had many discussions. And although he would never confess it, I believe that Bob was a believer in Jesus Christ and the here-after.

Bob’s life and my life were as opposite as day and night. And we live over 900 miles apart. But our friendship bonded years ago. It will be 63 years in October. From the length of our friendship, it is evident that neither of us are spring chickens. And Bob’s physical condition has diminished over the past months, and he is in failing health. I think often of him and call from time to time to check on him. For a period of time, he has not been able to talk, and I received reports from his wife, Linda.

I never gave thought to the possibility that Bob would be a friend for a lifetime when we first met. But as time passed, it was clear there was a mutual like between us. If there is a heaven, and we have faith there is, I will be happy to call Bob my Best Friend Forever.

Dwayne Collins

When the Wife Checks Out

As many of you already know, I was a counselor. My primary focus was on men, but my secondary focus was on marriages and families. When I first felt God calling me to counseling, my concern was on the children. But in my reasoning, I began to realize that it would do no good to help a child get emotionally well and then send them back home to a dysfunctional family, only to be further damaged. So, in my reasoning, I progressed up the ladder to the men.

Now, you’ve probably all heard the term pecking order.  It is even mentioned in the Bible. 1 Corinthians 11:3 says, “But I want you to realize that the head of every man is Christ, and the head of the woman is man, and the head of Christ is God.”

This pecking order is actually an order of accountability. But Paul is not telling us that this pecking order gives only authority. More importantly, it gives us responsibility, too.

Our first responsibility is to be obedient to the one above us. Christ was obedient to God the Father and gave His life. Was He excited about it? NO! In the garden, he cried that the cup be removed from him. But He said, never the less, not my will but yours be done. He was obedient to God the Father. If He had not been obedient to God the Father, He could not have expected us to be obedient to Him.

So, in that pecking order, our responsibility is to be obedient to Christ. One of the major dysfunctions in the family today is that we as husbands are not obedient to Christ, but we expect our wives to be obedient to us. It doesn’t work. And it finally leads to what I call “The Wife Checking Out.”

When the wife checks out, she no longer hangs on to the hope that you will change. What feelings she had for you has died. She has absolutely no feelings for you. This is a bad place for a marriage to be.

This theme of the wife checking out has weighed heavily on me because I was counseling 2-3 couples in which the wives had checked out. I find that when this happens, there is usually no turning back. She has separated emotionally and therefore, there is not even a spark of hope for the marriage to survive.

Fellows, if your wife hates your guts, you have a better chance of your marriage surviving than if she has no feeling for you at all.

Almost a year and a half ago, a man came to me because his wife found out that he had numerous affairs. In his mind, there was no hope for his marriage. While he sat on my couch, he got an email from his wife, and she stated that she hated him. I said to him, “There is your first ray of hope. If she hates you, she still has an emotional feeling for you.” They came to see me weekly as they are both worked very hard on their marriage.  

I find that most women want to be married to their husbands, but despite their attempts to be heard, they are ignored.

When we are dating our girlfriends, we will worship the ground they walk on. There is the saying that goes, “I would climb the highest mountain, crawl through the hottest desert on my belly, trek through the deepest snow barefoot just to be near you. And I’ll be over Saturday night if it doesn’t rain.”

But we get married, and we become complacent. For many men, we think when we say, “I do,” we are done. But that is just the beginning. Those hours we spent listening to our wives when we were dating were just preparation for the years of marriage. It is like the football players spending hours throughout the week practicing a play and then never coming out of the huddle.

Sometimes we as men enter marriage with the understanding that the wife is a possession. But Genesis 2:18 says, “The LORD God said, “It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him.”

Notice, that says “HELPER” not gofer. Going back to the pecking order I mentioned earlier, Ephesians 5:25 says, “Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her.”

Our duty to our wife is to serve her and give ourselves up for her. What does this mean? How do we do this?

We think we know our wives. But in truth, we don’t have a clue. And why? Because we never take time to listen to our wives. We really don’t know what makes them tick, how they feel, what is important to them.

As husbands, we need to create a place for our wives where they feel safe and secure. They need to know that they can say what is on their mind and we won’t ridicule, put them down, or try to fix their problems. It is a place where their thoughts and ideas are just as important as ours. We need to take the time to listen to them and learn to understand what they are saying.

I think that we as men fear doing this because, one, we don’t want more problems, and two, we fear we may not be able to fix their problems. They are not asking us to fix their problems. They are asking us to lend an ear so they can unload.

I also think that we have come to think that we do not and cannot understand our wives, so we just don’t try. You are all probably familiar with the fellow walking the beach on the west coast and found the lamp. When he rubbed it, a genie popped out and said he would grant him one wish. Note that this is only one wish. It looks like the economy is causing everything to decrease.

Any way, the man said he would like to have a highway from San Francisco to Honolulu. The genie responded, “Gosh, think of the logistics. I would have to provide rest areas, hotels, restaurants, gas stations. Isn’t there anything else you would like.” The man thought and then said, “I would really like to understand women.” The genie stroked his beard and replied, “How far apart would you like the rest areas?”

Men, our wives are not that complicated. They are not that hard to understand. But we won’t know and understand if we don’t listen.

The solution: Here is a simple answer. Sit down with your wife. Look her in the eyes. And ask, “How can I be a better husband?” “What can I do to make you happy?” And then listen.

Guys, do it now. Don’t wait until “Your Wife Checks Out.”

Dwayne Collins

The Last Time

I had just finished watching a movie on Netflix and was preparing to go to bed. It was 7:00pm and when I drive Uber, I get up at 3:30am. I picked up the lose things that needed to be picked up and began to thoughtlessly close the blinds. And then, I thought about all the times that I had performed this meaningless task of closing the blinds in the almost thirty years that I have lived here. That thought reminded me of another movie I had watched recently.

The movie, Griffin and Phoenix was about two people who happen to meet accidentally and became attracted to each other. As it was, both had terminal diseases and were dying. In one of their more serious time, Amanda Peet as Sarah Phoenix, stated:

“It’s so funny. You know what I’ve been thinking about? Last times. Really stupid things. Last time I used a pencil, Last time I petted a dog, Last time I played the piano. I’ve done so many things that I did at some point for the last time, and I wasn’t paying attention. And then I met you, and I got to laugh, and make love, and fall in love. All for the Last time. But this time I paid attention.”

And I thought about all my last times. At the age of 82, I won’t have many more last times. So I think about the last time I kissed my wife, or said I love you. The last time I hugged my kids and told them I loved them. Or said to my siblings I loved them. I don’t have many more last times. But I am going to make sure I pay more attention.

Dwayne Collins

They Have Needs, Too

It is always big news when a celebrity is found to be unfaithful. Interestingly, our reactions are not the same for all of them. On “Fox News Sunday” Britt Hume suggested that Tiger Woods seek Christianity because there was forgiveness there. Later in explaining his statement, he stated, “I think that Jesus Christ offers Tiger Woods something that Tiger Woods badly needs.”

Of course, our concerns as Christians should be that of redemption, not judgment. James 5:20 says, “Whoever turns a sinner from the error of his way will save him from death and cover over a multitude of sins.”

And although I agree with Britt Hume’s statement, I don’t recall anyone making that suggestion to John Edwards, Senator from North Carolina or Governor Mark Stafford of South Carolina. It may seem that as Christians, we are selective about who we offer our help.

When these revelations come to light, we ask, “Why do men do these things?” It is easy to understand that the bottom line is sin. But we all go through life with specific needs, and if we do not look to Christ to meet those needs, we may be led into sin through addictive behaviors. Just as Tiger, John, and Mark had specific (non-sexual) needs to be met, so did the women who accommodated them. In addition, the behavior of the men added to the needs of the women who loved them through marriage.

As a sensation seeking society, we are quick to migrate to the news about a celebrity who falls. These tragedies touch lots of people. But we must not be selective and pass judgment on some and redemption on the other. We must lead all to redemption, the men we like, the men we don’t like, the women who accommodate, and the innocent women who love. They have needs, too.

Dwayne Collins

A Responce to Tom Brady

Dear Tom,

You clearly don’t understand the sacrifices of our military men and women. Let me explain to you why you are NOT like my husband, currently deployed in the middle of the desert.

The heartbreak of dropping my husband off, saying our goodbyes, and having to drive away from him with my kids in the backseat sobbing is unbearable. (This is our second deployment with children).

We go weeks, months, or more than a year without seeing our spouses (and our kids do too).

We don’t get to talk every day. When we do, it’s with horrible internet connection and in opposite time zones. My kids have a few minutes to talk to their dad before I drop them off for school because by the time they get home, it’s the middle of the night over there.

My husband misses important life events and milestones like birthdays, anniversaries, Thanksgiving and Christmas, our sons first day of kindergarten, putting our beloved dog to sleep, taking fun vacations, and the rapid milestones our little 2 year makes. He misses out and I have to carry the load on my own with my 2 small kids.

Sometimes I just sit and cry because life is so overwhelming. I am constantly running at a 10/10 stress level. I am a mom and a dad, a chauffeur for the kids, the lunch packer, the nurse, the fun one, the disciplinarian, a friend, the cook, the maid, the errand runner, the bedtime story reader, the bath giver, the homework helper, the gas pumper, the mechanic, the handyman, and so, so much more all while holding down a full time job. I don’t have the luxury to hire anyone to do these things for me to lighten my load. Sometimes I don’t remember falling asleep before my alarm goes off again at 5:30am to get up and do it all over again.

You sleep in nice hotels and eat at the most expensive restaurants while “working”. My husband shares a tent with other men in the middle of the desert, where it gets 119+ degrees, eating whatever food can be prepared from the resources they have. He has to walk outside to the closest restroom and drive to get to the closest shower. I sometimes don’t get sleep. When I’m up all night with a sick kid but don’t have the luxury of sleeping the next day because I have another kid that needs me too and I have to work.

I can’t turn on the TV and see my husband. I can’t lay eyes on him to know for sure he’s okay. I just wait for that next phone call and am so happy when my phone rings and I see it’s him. When I call and he doesn’t answer, there’s always that fear in the back of my mind, the “what if” that I try to push away.

I can’t speak for your family, but I am terrified for the doorbell to ring. I don’t want to see anyone pull into my driveway, get off my front porch, and don’t ring the doorbell. It’s every military spouses biggest fear.

It’s being alone. So so alone. The scary bump in the night. I can’t send my husband. I have to see what it is and be the protector for me and my children. It’s not being able to just sink my head into his chest and smell his scent when I have had a bad day. I don’t have my bed warmer and feet heater on cold nights. I lay alone to fall asleep every single night for months and months with no companion there to just talk to.

It’s the fear every single day that he won’t come back home and I will have to do this forever by myself.

I don’t know the statics for football players, but the suicide rate for our military members is sickening. The PTSD, the mental and physical pain they can’t get away from, the feeling of loneliness and hopelessness. The homeless rates from our men and women not being able to reintegrate back into society because the things they see, hear, and smell are things we can’t imagine.

My husband doesn’t get paid millions. We work full time, have multiple jobs, and work so hard to pay the bills and provide for our family. We live a very blessed life, but not a rich one by any means.

While these things don’t cover all of it, these are just a few reasons Tom Brady that you and my husband are not the same.

Sincerely,

A military wife, full time Speech and Language Pathologist, and parent to a 5 and 2 year old.

Mandy Collins

Mandy Collins is an incredible mother and the wife of my Grandson Brian Collins, currently deployed in the Middle East. Mandy posted this on FaceBook in response to Tom Brady comparing NFL season to going on military deployment.

A Eulogy for Duane

I would like to start by saying that as already noted, Duane liked to laugh. And he was quick to laugh at himself. I remember two stories that he told me about himself, that I would like to pass along. Maybe you have already heard them. Both occurred when they lived in Bridgeport. Duane wrote a short high school sports column for the local newspaper. And both stories centered around high school sports.

The first story Duane told me was during high school football season. During practice one day, the coach had invited an ex-NFL football player to the practice. And Duane was invited to come and meet the man and maybe get a story for the newspaper. So, Duane drove out with Mark and they parked the car. Duane said he reached up and grabbed his sunglasses and put them on and they walked to the field and met the coach and the player. They walked around and talked, etc. As they entered the field house where the locker room was, he said they walked past a row of sinks and mirrors. He glanced into one of the mirrors and notice that one of the lenses was missing from his sunglasses. He turned to mark and asked, “How long has that lens been missing?” Mark responded, “Since you put them on in the car.”

The second story he told me was one evening, he went to a high school basketball game. The teams were on the court warming up and shooting the ball around, etc. Duane said he started yelling things, like: “Are you blind?” “He traveled!” “That was a foul.” “He was out of bounds.” On and on like that. Someone came up and asked, “Duane, what are you doing?” Duane responded, “I’m warming up for the game.”

I knew of Duane when he was just a little kid. He was just another one of those Millage kids and there were a lot of them. However, when I was sixteen and working at a grocery store one Friday night, a friend called and said Rita and Ray were bringing Marlene and “The four of you are going on a double date.”

Well, I had nothing better to do that evening, so I said, “Okay.” Marlene was one of those Millage kids, too? She was an aunt of Duane’s, but only about three years older than him.

Well through that date, Marlene and I became an item. Which still exists today. But I was just transitioning from childhood, when romances usually didn’t last long, into adulthood when romances developed for a lifetime. So, I was somewhat insecure about this new relationship with “Aunt” Marlene.

Duane’s family had recently moved to San Antonio, TX but because Duane wanted to finish the Little League season, he stayed with Grandma and Grandpa Millage and they agreed to take him to Texas after the season was over. Marlene had just graduated from Franklin Middle School and was too young to stay home alone, so she went with them.

Now this was our first separation after 2-3 months of this serious relationship, so as I mentioned, my insecurity was still pretty strong. So, to lessen that insecurity, we agreed to a letter every day. But one day I didn’t get a letter. Being sure that her affection for me had already died, I blasted off a letter to let her know that if that was the way she felt…well, you can add the rest.

This is where Duane came in. He was with Marlene in Texas and could see her affection for me, and how she truly felt. He quickly sent a letter to me to let me know that she truly loved me. Of course, shortly after that letter arrived, the missing letter arrived, and the daily letters resumed. Duane was the peacemaker way back then.

Duane felt a call to ministry and attended college and seminary to prepare. And he went on to serve in the Methodist Church for many years. It was during his early times in ministry that Duane and I began a long distant friendship. I remember a trip Marlene and I and our kids took to Carbondale to visit them. And Marti, I still remember the chili and the bagels we had for dinner. I think that was the first time I ever ate bagels, and it was a great meal.

There were several things that attracted me to a friendship with Duane. He loved to read stories, articles, the words of old hymns, and poems, and watch movies. And so did I. If I wanted to know something good to read, I would call him and ask what he was reading. And each phone call would last a long time. Now this isn’t to say that we talked each week. Sometimes, months would pass between calls. But being in the same family, there were occasions to be together. Unfortunately, during those times there were so many other distractions, we didn’t get to spend the time we wanted, so a week or two later, one of us would end up calling the other.

If I was discouraged or needed an uplift, I could call Duane. He would always have a way to encourage. You see, he truly practiced the Christian life. He loved God, and he loved others. Marti and the kids might say different, but in my eyes, Duane was truly a gentle person, a Saint.

As we grow older we begin to plan in our minds our own funeral. We think about who would might sing a song, or give the eulogy. And I began to think that I wanted Duane to give my eulogy. And I was planning to tell him what I wanted but was really caught off guard when one day while in conversation, he asked me to give his eulogy.

In the Bible, John concludes his book with these words, “And there are also many other things which Jesus did, the which, if they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written.”

There are so many other things that could be written about Duane, but “If they should be written every one, I suppose that even the world itself could not contain the books that should be written.”

My youngest brother, Steve, moved to Texas a few years ago. To keep busy, he decided to drive a school bus. In the district he worked, kids were expected to sit three in a seat, but high schoolers with back packs could not possibly get three to a seat. So, there was always confusion, disagreements, and quarrels. Steve was burn out and had made up his mind to quit driving after the holidays. His supervisor knew that he was discouraged, and one day he called him into his office and said, “Steve, we are going to cut your route down. We can’t afford to lose you.” He said, “Steve, everyone here has a Steve story, a story of how Steve has encouraged them and made their day and their time better.”

There is a line from the movie Fierce People that goes, “We are the sum of all the people we have ever met.” When I think of all the people whose life Duane went into, I know that each and all have a Duane story that has enriched them and helped to make their day and their life better.

Duane loved his God. He loved his wife, and he loved his family. And I know that Duane loved me, just I loved him. I am convinced that he will meet me at the gates of heaven when I enter. And we will have great times talking about great books we have read, great stories that we retell, both humorous and serious, and talking about great hymns that have great meaning to us both. We will talk about our wives and our kids, and the great memories they have given us, and most of all we will talk about the Jesus who made it all possible.

In closing, I am reminded of the poem by John Gillespie Magee, Jr, “High Flights.” I believe it describes Duane’s journey. It goes:

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth,
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed and joined the tumbling mirth
Of sun-split clouds — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of — wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there
I’ve chased the shouting wind along and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up the long delirious burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle, flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

Marti, Mark, Matt, Kim, family and friends. Be comforted in knowing that Duane is no longer in any pain, discomfort, or hurt. For truly, he has put out his hand and touched the face of God. And as he does, he is collecting the rewards of all those Duane stories, as he hears the voice of God say, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Friends Forever

As children, one of the first needs we have is to be liked by someone, and to like someone in return. This mutual like can eventually lead to what is commonly known as BFF, or Best Friend Forever. As we progress through life, we create more mutual likes and many times, our BFF does not come from those early childhood likes but develops later in life. Some people do not have a BFF, and some have more than one.

I first met Bob Nixon in October 1961 when I transferred from Kansas City to Chicago with Braniff Airways. Bob came to work with Braniff about the same time. We developed a friendship. On Monday nights, my wife, Marlene, and I would have taco parties and a number of the couples from work would come. The one regular couple was Bob and his wife. On occasion, it would be just the four of us. And the friendship between Bob and I grew and grew, even though I really knew extraordinarily little about Bob’s life and his past.

Eventually Marlene and I moved to Oklahoma, and Bob and I lost contact with each other. Bob left Braniff and went to work and traveled for Jockey Shorts. He was in his hotel room in Iowa one night and started thinking about and missing those taco parties. I received a phone call one night and the telephone operator asked if I was the Dwayne Collins who used to work for Braniff in Chicago. I answered in the affirmative and on the other end of the line was Bob. We talked and caught up with life.

Several months later, my wife and I moved back to Champaign, our hometown. On a day trip to Chicago, I stopped by the Braniff office to renew acquaintances. One of the employees told me that Bob was going to be going to the University of Illinois in Champaign. And a couple weeks later, Bob called.

He was moving to Champaign to work on his master’s degree. Bob was extended a weekly invite for dinner at our house. It was usually on Monday nights, and we enjoyed the Monday NFL game. This was a regular event for the next two years. It was during this time that I began to hear the stories of Bob’s life experiences. Truthfully, had I known all these things when I first met Bob, I may have judged him harshly and our friendship would not have developed. Fortunately for me, I did not, and it did. What follows is from my memory and may be out of sequence and/or somewhat embellished.

One of the first experiences that I learned about was what led to the University of Illinois in the first place. As I was to later learn, Bob was a Chicago Southside hoodlum. Some of his activities resulted in his leaving Chicago with the approval of a judge and moving in with relatives in Texas. In Texas, falling in and out of love resulted in him leaving school without finishing and leading to other extracurricular activity that resulted in his departure from the area.

He began working various jobs including employment in the oil fields in small west Texas towns. One cold,rainy Saturday night as he stood under the only street light in town, Bob began to realize that an education would serve him much better than what he was doing then. He decided to go back home and get an education. He enrolled at Loyola University in Chicago, but without complete high school transcripts. He solved that problem with appropriate stationary and a typewriter. And after his bachelor’s degree at Loyola, he earned a master’s degree at U of I. Bob used this education to become a college professor at a community college in Illinois and continued in that position for over 40 years.

Over the years, we have maintained our contact and on occasion, even though Marlene and I have been in Texas nearly 30 years, we have managed to see each other from time to time. During these many years, I have learned more and more about his fascinating life experiences. Before I met him, he had driven stock cars, rode in rodeos, hopped trains to travel, led the police on many car chases, some successful and some not and participated in gang wars. But back then, they did not use guns, they used chains and clubs. He hid in the attic of an ex-girlfriend’s home to see if she was seeing someone else. Bob was an animal lover. He rescued injured and abused dogs. Many of which he kept himself and cared for. He drove hundreds of miles to kidnap or help transport an abused animal. He became a lobbyist to the Illinois State Assembly for animal rights. And he wrote a college textbook on business communications.

I could never get enough of Bob’s life stories. But, as we got older, Bob and I would talk a lot about heaven. He could not comprehend eternity, and he was concerned that we would get bored after a few thousand years. We had many discussions. And although he would never confess it, I believe that Bob was a believer in Jesus Christ.

Bob’s life and my life were as opposite as day and night. And we live over 900 miles apart. But our friendship bonded years ago. It will be 60 years in October. From the length of our friendship, it is evident that neither of us are spring chickens. And Bob’s physical condition has diminished over the past months, and he is in failing health. I think often of him and call from time to time to check on him. The past couple times, he has not been able to talk and I have received reports from his wife, Linda.

I never gave thought to the possibility that Bob would be a friend for a lifetime when we first met. But as time passed, it was clear there was a mutual like between us. If there is a heaven, and we have faith there is, I will be happy to call Bob my Best Friend Forever.

Dwayne Collins

The Final Goodbye

Being eighty years old means my physical activities tend to decrease. They are further decreased with the advent of Covid-19. And that means my leisure time is increased. The question becomes: How do I fill that non-accounted for time?

Although I have not been one to sit at home, even during the pandemic, I still have lots of time for watching television movies. I usually do not search for shoot-em-up, wild car chase, movies. I choose those that have more to do with real life situations and are more likely to affect my emotions or make me think. A couple weeks ago, I watched a movie about a woman who was terminally ill with cancer. In her trips to the hospital for treatment, she met a young gay man whose significant other was also dying. She and here husband became friends with the young man and eventually attended his significant other’s funeral. Their acceptance and love of the young man made me think that we as Christians tend to judge people by their physical direction rather than what is in their heart. In my older years, I have come to see there is a great disconnect between the two and I am sure that God judges by what is in our hearts, rather than how we act or what we do. I believe that is why we are instructed by the Bible not to judge (Matthew 7:1-3). But that is the topic of another blog.

Recently, I watched a movie titled Blackbird. Lily, played by Susan Sarandon, was dying with a terminal disease. Isn’t it ironic that at age 80, all the main characters of my movies are dying? Her husband, Sam, was a doctor and they had two adult daughters. The oldest one, Jennifer, was married with a teenage son. She was by the rules and everything had to be orderly. That created a great conflict between she and her younger sister, Anna, who was a lesbian, suffered from emotional problems, and did not connect favorably or regularly with the family.

Lily had a terminal illness and wanted to select her time of dying. She had convinced Sam to assist by creating a mixture of medicines for her to ingest when the time came. And Lily wanted her family together to celebrate one last Christmas and to celebrate her life and passing. As the story unfolded, it was obvious there was lots of healing that had to take place between the members of the family, including Lily. There were lots of soul searching and apologies, and everything else that goes into the relationship healing process. There were lots of screaming, crying, laughing and forgiveness. And with this came a lot of understanding, healing, and acceptance.

And so, I began to think. There is a lot to be said about knowing exactly when you will breathe your last breath. By saying this, I am in no way saying that I believe in assisted suicide, or self-administered suicide. I believe that life is given by God and should be taken by him. But I do believe that God knows the very heart of each person’s decision and it is up to Him to judge. In my current and normal frame of mind, I cannot imagine what someone is dealing with when they decide it is time to end their life. And I do not know what may go through my mind in the future.

During my lifetime, I have witnessed and known of many people who have died. I have seen the survivors who have had great relationships with the dying, myself included. And I have seen the survivors who have not had great relationships with the dying. It seems to me that those with great relationships with the dying have an easier time in the grieving process. The problem with death for those still living is that it is final. Any healing that we want to accomplish is no longer possible. And so, my statement, “There is a lot to be said about knowing when you will breathe your last breath.”

Since my father died in his early 60’s, I assumed I would die about the same age. Although I did not dwell on that thought, it was at the forefront of my mind. Just before I turned 55 years old. I felt that God said to me, “Do not dwell on this any longer. You are going to live another 25 years.” I accepted that but from then on, I questioned whether God said, “…another 25 years,” or “…AT LEAST another 25 years.” There can be a great difference between the two. But I willingly accepted what God said. After all, twenty-five years is a long time. That is, unless you are on the slippery slope side of life and time goes by quickly. Last April, the night before my 80^th birthday, I was almost afraid to go to sleep. Since I am still here, maybe God did say, “…at least another 25 years.”

So, what is my point. Well, first, I am at peace with God, and I do not fear closing my eyes for the final time. I believe in faith, there is a heaven, and I will go there. It is by faith that I believe. And as the Bible tells us in Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.” Another way to put this; we do not have tangible proof; be we still believe it. And so, if I close my eyes for the last time and I do not open them again, my faith in eternal life was for naught, but I will not know it anyway. If I am wrong, I have lost nothing. If I am right, I have gained everything.

My second point, when I close my eyes for the final time, I am sure there are many people that I wished I had one last opportunity to say goodbye to. To say I am sorry, or thank you, or you have always been special to me, or I am immensely proud of you, or I am deeply in love with you. None of us are who we are without the impact of someone else. A line from the movie Fierce People, “We are the sum of all the people we have ever met,” so if there are any faults in me, you are partially to blame. To summarize this point, there is never a good or correct time to die apart from the time God selects. We are never finished with life when it is time to go. And only final goodbyes are the ones said by those who stand over your grave.

So, in not knowing the time, I am aware that I have already had more years that I thought possible. So, if I do not get to tell you in person, and not knowing how much more time there is, I want all to know that my life has been thoroughly blessed by my wonderful friends and family. And finally, if I do not get to tell you all over and over again, I want my beautiful wife of more than 61 years, to know and be assured, that you above all others, have made my life special. And I want my four kids and their spouses, their children (my grandchildren), their spouses, and their children (my great grandchildren), to know that they are deeply loved. And I am proud of each one without exception.

“Nothing in life will call upon us to be more courageous than facing the fact that it ends. But on the other side of heartbreak is wisdom.” From the movie Wish I was here.